Sled dogs carry Astrobiologyto dizzying heights

Mush! Sled dogs carry astrobiology to dizzying
heights

"Life on the Edge" advances to a mountain
summit at 13,000 ft

Mar. 12, 1999: Last month a 50 lb canister of yeast and
other microbes arrived at a 13,000 ft summit in California's
White Mountains. It was the first step in a new educational program
called "Life on the Edge,"
which aims to expose grade school students to some of the basic
principles of astrobiology and to explore the possibilities for
life elsewhere in the Solar System.

Right: Tovic (left) and Ruby (right)
enjoy frigid conditions in the White Mountains on a run in early
February. These two Huskies are members of an eight dog team
that has travelled into the White Mountains several times this
year to convey and monitor "Life on the Edge" microbe
vessels. The sled, pictured in the background, is pulled by Ruby,
Tovic and six other dogs. The driver (Tony Phillips, not pictured)
rides standing on the runners at the rear of the sled. Microbes
and other supplies like food and water travel in the red bag,
which is tied inside the sled's "basket."

"The basic idea" says Dr. David Noever, a member of
NASA/Marshall's astrobiology research group, "is to subject
a collection of benign microorganisms to some of Earth's harshest
environments, including geothermal vents, high mountain peaks,
and even the South Pole. After the microbes have been exposed
to these severe conditions for a period of time, we will recover
them and distribute them to classrooms. Grade school students
can perform simple laboratory protocols on their samples to see
how their microbes fared, and they'll be able to compare harsh
environments on Earth to places like Europa, the Moon, and Mars."

The first phase of Life on the Edge is being
conducted as a joint effort between NASA/Marshall's Space Science
Laboratory and the University of California's White Mountain
Research Station (WMRS). The WMRS maintains four research facilities
for high-altitude research in the White Mountains of eastern
California. The highest facility sits atop the White Mountain
summit, a wind-swept peak at 14,249 ft. Conditions there are
severe. Near the summit air pressure is only 600 millibars and
the sustained temperature during winter is a frigid -20 C. Annual
precipitation is less than 12 inches, most of which arrives as
snow in winter. The temperature, pressure, and low humidity are
similar to conditions at Earth's south pole during the austral
summer.

"Most of what we do is research in physiology, wildlife
biology, and geology," says Dave Trydahl, the WMRS station
manager. "This astrobiology activity is a new area for us
and we're eager to support it."

The WMRS staff have opened their facilities as shelters for the
dog sled team, broken some difficult trails with snowmachines,
and helped convey the yeast vessel to its present location.

Left: The White Mountain Observatory.
The Life on the Edge microbe vessal is strapped to the side of
this building at 13,000 ft elevation. This high and dry site
was once a leading candidate for the Keck telescope, now located
on Mauna Kea in Hawaii. The dome sits empty now, but the NASA/Marshall
Science Communications Group in cooperation with the White Mountain
Research Station is planning to eventually re-open the observatory
as a remotely operated telescope for our readers.

"We haven't yet made it to the top (at 14,249 ft.) despite
4 trips with the dog sled team and 2 trips in snowmobiles,"
says Dr. Tony Phillips, a NASA astronomer and musher. "We've
been delayed by severe storms, white outs, minor injuries to
me and to the dogs -- you name it. It's an extreme environment
up there. That's why it's so difficult."

"But," he continued, "we have conveyed the microbes
to a summit at 13,000 ft, not far from the 14,249 ft. peak, and
they are exposed to the the environment there. We're planning
additional trips in the near future to move them to the top."

Some of the yeast packets will be recovered in May for distribution
to classrooms. Others will remain at the top through the winter
of 1999-2000 for prolonged exposure to severe conditions.

What's it like dog-sledding in the White Mountains?

Tony Phillips contributed this account based on his most recent
trip:

Blondie's
Revenge
or "My dog ate the microbes!"

Feb. 25, 1999: "My team of eight Siberian Huskies
and I began a 50 mile sled run to the summit of the White Mountains
on a perfect day for sledding. It was cold, the trail was well-packed,
and we began our steep ascent averaging about 6 mph. We had previously
advanced the yeast packets to 13,000 ft, only 1000 ft below the
summit, and this time we hoped to reach the top."

We're
looking for a few good volunteers

Next month we'll be inviting educators, students, and other scientists
to join us as participants in Life on the Edge. If you
have an interest in learning about life in extreme environments,
you'll be able to sign up to receive a sample packet of microbes
returned from the White Mountain summit. What's it cost? Nothing!
We'll simply ask that you try out some of our classroom-safe
lab protocols and give us your feedback. If you're interested
please sign up
for our Partners in Discovery program. The Life on the Edge project is conducted
with support from the NASA Marshall Education
Programs Office.

"About 13 miles into our trip one of my sled dogs
-- a giant, enthusiastic puller named Blondie -- twisted his
leg. The usual procedure when a dog is hurt is to bundle him
into a bag which sits in the basket of the sled. The rest of
the team then pulls the musher and the injured dog to safety."

"With this in mind I unsnapped Blondie from the gang line,
and lifted him into the sled bag. Or tried to. The rescue quickly
turned into an epic wrestling match. Although I am twice as heavy
as Blondie, and arguably smarter, it was no contest. After a
brief struggle, the sled was over-turned, my face was covered
in snow, and Blondie stood panting happily back in position with
the rest of the team. Blondie wanted to pull, not ride. After
a few repetitions of this procedure, Blondie won out. I returned
him to the team, and we headed for home."

It was not a very productive trip, except for Blondie who proved
that he can pull just as hard on 3 legs as he can with 4."

Feb. 28, 1999: "Two days later we made another assault
on the White Mountains. Blondie, who was still limping slightly,
stayed home and was replaced in the team by Peanut, a small female
Husky. Blondie was clearly affronted by being left behind, but
we couldn't risk aggravating his injury. In retrospect I wish
I had taken him. I might have avoided the revenge he exacted
days later."

"This run began much like the last. A hard-packed trail.
A cool breeze. Good conditions for sledding."

"At first we made record time. The dogs ascended 2500 feet
in only 2.5 hrs. It looked as if we would reach the summit in
a single day with energy to spare."

"Since our last run the wind had blown enormous snowdrifts
along the trail. At one point, where the underlying path was
carved from the side of a mountain, the trail disappeared entirely
under a drift of rock hard snow that spilled steeply downward
into a 150 ft ravine. The trick was to make it across without
slipping sideways down the side of the mountain."

"From a distance it looked sled-able. No problem, I thought,
if we go fast enough."

Left: The dog sled team dashes
across a steep slippery snowdrift.

"We went fast, all right, straight down to the bottom of
the crevass."

"Regaining the trail was not easy. The snow was so hard
that I couldn't punch my fingers through the surface for a handhold.
(They are still swollen from trying.) The only way up was by
crawling crablike on my stomach, pulling the dogs and sled behind
me. The dogs helped as much as they could, but on the slippery
slope they couldn't stand up for long. One, two, then three legs
would slip, followed by a funny little "ufff" sound
and a downward tug on the sled. Our ascent back to the trail
lasted more an hour."

"Once up, I nearly fainted. Then I nearly barfed. It would've
been a good workout at sea-level, but at 11,500 ft it felt about
midway between devastating and catastrophic."

"We eventually discovered a detour and continued sledding,
but the damage was done. We were three hours behind schedule
and the exertion of our adventure in the crevass had given me
a serious case of altitude sickness. By 4:30 p.m., ill and exhausted,
I decided to stop for the night at Barcroft Station (elev. 12,500
ft)."

"Altitude sickness is no fun, and I won't belabor the details.
Throughout the night I melted snow for cup after cup of herbal
tea (my wife's special remedy) and, miraculously, I was fit to
sled again by morning."

"On the morning of March 1, I hooked up the dogs and we
left Barcroft Station for a stopping point at 13,000 ft where
the yeast has been exposed to the harsh mountain environment
for over 5 weeks."

Right: The dogs take a breather
at the White Mountain Research Station's Barcroft Facility at
12,500 ft. The NASA trailer in the background is part of a NASA/JPL
atmospheric research project.

"Rather than convey the yeast from there to the summit,
which I felt was beyond my limits at that moment, I decided to
photograph the area and to collect snow and soil samples for
later microbial analysis. At present no one knows which, if any,
indiginous microorganisms live in the wind-swept peaks of the
White Mountain range. We hope to find some that might later be
identified as local extremophiles."

"I spent over an hour collecting samples, including rocks,
snow and soil. I packed them carefully into the sled bag, turned
the team around and finally headed home."

"Descending from 13,000 ft to 8,500 ft was easier than the
climb the day before, and we reached my truck before nightfall.
It had been a difficult two-day journey, but I felt that the
many microbe samples tucked away in my sled bag made the trip
worthwhile. I drove home, tired but satisfied."

March 2, 1999 -- Blondie's Revenge: "A day after
we returned I was preparing to ship our hard-won samples to the
Marshall Space Flight Center where astrobiologists would examine
them for evidence of microbial life. Blondie, still recuperating
from his injury, was asleep in my office when I placed the sample
bag on my desk and left briefly for a cup of tea."

"When I returned only Blondie remained. The sample pouch
was on the floor in shreds. Fragments of plastic vials and swirl
bags littered the floor. Blondie stretched and let out a long,
satisfied belch."

My dog ate the microbes!

"Blondie is recovering nicely so we know that any White
Mountain extremophiles are not pathogenic to Huskies. In fact,
Huskies may be the toughest extremophiles we encounter during
the Life on the Edge experiment."

"We're going back again in two weeks for more samples. This
time I plan to take Blondie with me."

Life on the Edge FAQ

What is Life on the
Edge? Why study life in extreme environments? How do I become
involved?

Life on the Edge is a collaborative educational project
being developed between NASA/Marshall Space Science Laboratory,
the University of California White Mountain Research Station
(WMRS) and the Center for Astrophysical Research in Antarctica
(CARA). Participants include David Noever, Richard Hoover, Tony
Phillips, John Horack, and Dale Watring of NASA; Dave Trydahl,
Joe Szewczak, and Susan Szewczak of the WMRS.Web Links